“Yup.” She sauntered toward him to prove to herself the sexual energy pulse was nothing more than a blip. “I love the drums.”
Knox had balked ever so briefly at the engagement idea. During those moments, she’d started negotiations with Tanner—the Dimefront drummer. Tanner could hardly speak to a female without seizing up, but he’d been on board. Funny that… Irina hadn’t been as excited to have him as her pretend husband. Tanner was sweet, but he wasn’t Knox. In the end, though, his agreement spurred Knox into saying yes. Sometimes Irina just liked to mess with Knox a little and remind him that Tanner was happy to do the matrimony-for-press gig with her.
“Fine,” he said as a grunt.
“And while we are on pie,” she whispered, giving a glance to Harley, but the munchkin was nearly off to dreamland.
Irina traced her fingertip along the top of the piano. Blurgh, she hated having to say this, but they were going for good publicity, not terrible publicity. So she needed to lay it all out. “We need to discuss your need to refrain from lady pie, unless your, uh, friend signs a nondisclosure agreement,” she said, quietly.
He stopped playing the piano and looked her straight in the eye. She hated when he did that because it always made her feel so…seen.
Not just as an actress or someone who loves the spotlight—but really seen. The dirt and grit, along with the gloss. The last guy who’d done that? Well… it’d ended badly for them both.
“NDA? That’s gonna put a crimp in my pickup game,” Knox said, low and mellow. Again that prickle of desire tugged at her.
She ignored it once more, and softly snort-laughed. “Like you have a game.”
“I have loads of game.” He feigned shock, but they both knew it wasn’t true.
She leaned in to rebalance the scales, because it hadn’t gone past her notice that he was a breast guy, and she was struggling way more than he was with the whole turned on thing. Leaning in this way would give a little cleavage boost to her standing in this conversation. “Then why are you marryingme?”
Ha. He totally checked out her girls before saying, “Because I don’t hate you.”
“Thanks.” She rolled her eyes.
“Besides, are you getting an NDA before any games of hide the salami?”
Uh-huh. “One, don’t call it that. Two, yes. Three, it doesn’t matter because I’m actually planning on being celibate during our time together.” Her insides all seemed to whine at that announcement.
He scowled and totally looked at her girls again. “Why would you do that?”
She straightened, because instead of giving her better footing, her chest display only seemed to make her more exposed.
“Because sex is overrated,” she said. “I’m going to keep my focus on my career once I have one.” She moved back to the table with her stuff. “Can’t do that on my back.”
“Whatever you say.” He sat at the keyboard and worked out some bars, saying nothing. Absolutely unaware of what had just happened with her.
She peeked at sound-asleep Harley, then placed photos of her four extremely different short-listed gown options on the table before her.
The one with the lace cape-style sleeves and the fitted bodice with the mermaid tail was probably the correct option for this wedding round. The style would photograph so beautifully. Also, it looked like what the wife of a rock star would select for herself.
“What do you think of this dress?” The style wasn’therfirst choice, but it did scream rocker’s wife, so it’d likely be the one he’d pick.
“I think you should wear whatever you want.” Pencil between his teeth, he scowled at the music paper he’d scribbled and scratched out. He’d been like this for hours.
“But do you like it?” She stood back and squinted at the photo. She wanted him to like it since it was his event, too. Sure, she liked that it accentuated her breasts without accentuating her ass. But she wasn’t entirely sold on the lace. There was a lot of lace.
He glanced up.
She held the photo so he could see better.
“I thought we agreed wedding planning would go smoother without my help?” he said, lifting his eyebrows. “I’m the finance guy, and the show up guy, and the stand where you say guy.”
“Maybe I changed my mind, and you can add give-opinion guy to your list?” She made the photo do a little dance across the table. “Do. You. Like. It?”
“Like is a funny word.” He sort of made the same yuck face as before when he spoke.
“So you don’t?” Huh, she seriously figured this one was the one he’d dig.
